What It's Like Wednesday... #13

I love you. 
Words once flowed easily. Unexpected but received happily. Unasked for. I grew used to them. Took it for granted. I don't know what happened. Now they sputter and die before reaching her lips. Love not reciprocated is painful.
Justification. Logic. It is easy. My mind knows the answer. Knows that it is normal. But normal isn't easy. What my mind easily accepts my heart bleeds over. Once again at a loss.
Forcing love isn't love. So I say it. I hug. I kiss. I laugh. When I want to cry and yell and scream.
I choose to be a mom even when she chooses not to be a daughter. I choose to wait.
I hope for someday. When I love you doesn't echo hollowly through my heart and our house. When she knows that she is loved and loves in return.  Not because she has to. Not because it is polite. But because love has filled the empty recesses of her heart. Because she stopped staring into the past and looks expectantly into her future.
Because I love her and she loves me.

Five Minute Friday : Close

Go-
I long to be close. For it to be easy. But instead every Saturday we find ourselves in a lurching dance. Trying to be close. Trying not to step on each other's toes.  The moments when I long to put my hand on her beautiful head. Or squeeze her 'til she feels every last drop of love. And she is silent. But longs for closeness too. I see it. As she ever so slowly moves closer and closer on the couch. Finally her leg barely brushes mine. Or she leans in. But just a little.
Why do we hesitate? A mother and daughter. We shouldn't feel the awkwardness of strangers. And yet we do. Because we are. Only 4 short weeks. And only Saturdays and half of Sundays.
I ache for the closeness that should be. I ache for her. I ache for me. I want to be close. So close that we don't hesitate for hugs. Or have to ask. Close enough to smile confidently. Close enough to love without fear.
Oh, I can't wait to be close.

Stop

What It's Really Like Wednesday #11... Growing Pains

I can't hardly begin to describe the crazy messiness of my life.
Monday, last week, I returned to work.
Thursday, last week, our permanent in home numbers jumped from three to four.
Weekends are filled with all five of us.
There is no time. For anything. Not one single thing. Not even using the bathroom. Every moment is full. Exhausting. Draining. Hard.
It is difficult to explain. Something so wonderful. That fills my heart to overflowing. I don't want to sound ungrateful. Because I am not. My family is a miracle. This is who we were meant to be. But even in bliss there is pain. How can that be? I wish I could say. But for all of us it is there.
For G it is the loss of a mother. She still loves. The excitement of a forever home is overshadowed at times by memories of a mom who didn't/couldn't be what she needed to be. The fear of new rules. And thrill of a new room. The love of her baby brother. And distaste for a new one.
For M it is joy in brotherhood. And loss of attention. It is playmates. And learning to share. Laughter and tears.
For C it is hugs. Kisses. Being told no. People to play with. New smells and foods. It is learning to cry on a new shoulder. Again. Refusing to sleep. Testing limits. Giggling. Walking in everyone's shoes.
For me it is loving. When unloved. Quieting screams. Even when those screams exist because of me. It is mother/daughter shopping dates. Picking out paint. Decorating in cheetah print. It is saying goodbye. When it should be forever. It is patience. And then some. It is trusting that I won't fail completely. Trying not to think about how much I don't know. It is forcing togetherness and pasting on smiles. It is work. And more work. And then some more.
For The Hubs it is watching it all. Loving the growth. Hating the pain. It is being most desired. And not necessarily wanting it that way. It is working all day. And coming home to no rest. It is playing. Loving. Teaching. Silly sounds and slobbery kisses.
A miracle for us all. An answer to prayer. But a very bumpy road. We are bumped and bruised. Smiling. Even as we are wounded. Because this is forever. And this is us. A family.

Linking up here...

No Time for Goodbyes - So Long to Life as We Know It

We were sitting in the restaurant. Munching on chips. Chatting with Poppa and Lewis. Wishing we didn't have to go. The drive home is always so hard. So far away. Sometimes 5 hours can seem like an eternity. But not this time. The Hubs' phone call during lunch changed everything. We were chomping at the bit. The closer we got, the closer we were to our new forever. It was surreal. How do you wrap your mind around such craziness? The simple answer is : You can't. No matter how many times I tried. I just couldn't believe that our lives had so suddenly changed. Monday was a flurry. A crazy, wonderful, unbelievable flurry.
Tuesday we started with details. What did this really mean? The questions poured out. Not every answer was great. And we weren't sure what it would look like. There is some risk. It isn't all crisp and clean. Life is messy. We just jumped into the thick of it. And a plan was created to meet them!
Wednesday came. Not soon enough. And the day dragged. Then finally we were there. The unfriendly square green building, now the best place on earth. And we asked more questions. Lots and lots of questions. What exactly are the risks? What is the timeline? And on and on and on. The door cracked open...They are here. I would have jumped and run but I didn't want to worry the people who were planning on placing these children in our care. So we walked. Barely. They sat out in the yellow room. So small and shy. So beautiful. We said hi. The awkwardness filled the room. No one knew what to say. Yet, we struggled through a herky jerky conversation.
How could we say no? Simple answer: We couldn't. Our hearts were not our own. An appointment was made - Friday @ 2. Ready or not. Here they come!
Five days from the phone call. Five days! And we have a 19 month old. His screams and squeals fill our house. His little toddling feet pitter patter down the hall and then back again. He is home. And on Saturday our daughter comes. Her chatter is constant. Advice flows freely. Tentative hugs and smiles. And she is home.
There was no time to blink. There was no time to say goodbye. As yesterday passed. And life became something different altogether. Exhaustion sweeps in. But it is sweet. It has never been better. Three is now five. And we dive in. Not admitting to loudly that we are clueless. That The Hubs has never changed a diaper. That we don't know how to forge the swamp of technology and friends and pre-teen hormones. But we know our hearts have stretched and can never be unshrunk. We know that it will be hard. That we will make mistakes. More than we want to. That we can love while we cry. We can succeed. Because this is what we were meant to do.
So goodbye three. Hello five!

A New and Surprising Chapter

Today started like most days. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Just packing up and getting ready to head home from a weekend with family. Before heading out we stopped for lunch. It proved to be a valuable stop.
The Hubs' phone rang. He hurried to answer it. And disappeared. He returned a while later with a look of shock on his face. That was our caseworker. She wants to know if we are willing to take a 19 month old. With the possibility of a 9 year old sister. My jaw dropped! Everyone at the table was in shock. Um, YES! It is blurred in my mind. Just a whirl of craziness. Elation. Confusion. Happiness. My mom laughed. Neither of us thought to ask boy or girl. It didn't matter.
We had no details. Knew absolutely nothing. Except for our answer. I called back. Over and over again. An eternity later I got through. A baby boy. A little girl. Be still my heart. Did we want to? There was never really a question. It was like this fell from God's hands directly into our lap.
We are not impulsive. We don't rush into things. There just wasn't much of a question. It was nothing we had planned. It doesn't happen this way. We haven't even completed the process. And yet here we are. When our criminal background checks come back. In 2 or 3 weeks we will have a baby! And soon after a daughter will follow.
My mind is reeling. Trying to make sense of this awesome craziness. God's goodness is overwhelming. This is just too good for words.

Us right after we found out. I have the same tear stained cheeks as I had 2 years before with M)

What It's Really Like Wednesday #10 ...Forever is a Long Time

I am posting over here today!

Photo Credit: Michaela Faith Photography

Good Morning - Connecting With Your Kids

Good morning, good morning, good morning, it's time to rise and shine. Good morning, good morning, good morning get off your lazy behind. The words escape me, loud and happy. I sing to him as I open the door. As I sit on the edge of his bed. And as I peel the blankets away. Every morning it is the same. He waits for me. Most of the time, even if he was awake. And then instead of clinging to warm blankets, he clings to me. I rub his back. He squeezes my neck. Good Morning, Bud. How did you sleep? He says good. He always says good. What did you dream about? He never remembers, but he makes up something anyways. Animals are usually involved. And we cuddle close. I kiss his soft curls and sing. Momma loves M. He's her favorite boy. Momma loves M, more than any toy. It isn't the best song in the world. It isn't even half way great. But every morning I hold him in my arms and sing him our song. A song I made up long ago, on a rough day. When the only thing to do was rock him and sing in the kitchen.
And then the song is over. I ruffle his hair, Ok, time to get up! And off he bounces.
...

Routine. I have mentioned it before. I will mention it again. ... It rules my life. It isn't a bad thing. It is security. Like a nice warm blanket. Or a cup of hot tea. Soothing to the soul.
Every morning is the same because he needs it to be. Every morning is a reminder that this is forever. That in this family there is love and snuggles and kisses and giggles. A shared life of wonderful little moments. In this family there is safety.
Connections are born in the everyday. We don't love the stranger we passed on the street. We love the faces we see every day. Big moments happen, but small moments are reality. They are the building blocks of everything to come.
Secure in love, or not. Adopted, fostered or biological. Every child needs the warmth of deep love. Love that they can't understand, but rest in.
Find a way to connect. Sing a silly song. Dance a crazy dance. Do something. Do anything! Not for your need. But for theirs.

Linking up here...

   

Giggles - Delighting in Motherhood

I love many things about M. To many things to count. But one of the sweetest things about him is his little giggle. M laughs at the funniest things. (Read here things most people wouldn't laugh at). The first time he heard the word Splenda he broke into great peals of laughter like it was the funniest word in the world or when we told him that he may have a cousin named Harrison he giggled and smirked Hair.  Or sometimes something legitimately funny will happen but he doesn't laugh... until it seeps into his little brain and he giggles.
M is also a huge fan of slap stick comedy. A pie in the face is his kind of humor. The Hubs and I relish watching movies with him. We love to see his face light up with laughter and sweet giggling escape from his lips. I remember vividly the time M was screaming with excitement as we watched the recent film The Three Stooges. His favorite part, the peeing babies. He laughed so hard! (I have included the clip for your viewing pleasure)

Discovering M has been one of my greatest joys as a mother.  I love getting to know M. What makes him squeal with delight. What makes his heart soft. Every little nuance that makes M the unique and amazing little person that he is.
Being a mother to a child I understand (at least some of the time) makes being a mother that much more of a blessing and less of a job. It makes the difficult moments more bearable. Unspeakable. Overwhelming love washes over me. Making my heart softer. Making the moments I don't understand smaller. Not because they aren't there as often, but because my love is greater.

I would love to hear about the fun and amazing things you have learned about your kids? And how did you discover them?

Linking up here

Family Adventures

M was chipper and full of energy. He bounced into our bed, thoroughly waking us. Think Tigger. You now have a very real idea of M in the mornings. :) We chatted and tickled and giggled. I love these moments. In a brief moment of rest before another "surprise" attack from M, The Hubs asked a question. "M, What is your favorite family thing to do?" His little forehead wrinkled. His head tilted to the side. "Family adventures!" The rest over as M leaped into the air to land on us.

....
I agree with M. Family adventures are my favorite family thing to do too. The fun. The memories. They are those precious moments in our family that help seal in forever.
This last weekend we completed the last celebrations of The Hub's birthday. We drove hours. For fast food! Yes, it's true. The Hubs is a huge fan of In N Out Burger. So we made the trip. Love. People, this is true love.

 Family adventures is the stuff of love. It is exploring and discovering. It is fun and laughter. It is being together. And loving it. It is walking across the world's tallest sundial.

It is seeing a pirate.
This woman (sorry for the terrible picture) had a brightly colored bird sitting on her shoulder (I think it was a parakeet?). M leaned over, eyes wide with excitement and whispered conspiritorially, "I think she's a pirate!"

What is your favorite family thing to do?


I am linking up here:

Lewis and Clark, Explorers Extarordinaire

Can I call Lewis?
When are we going to visit Poppa and Lewis?
...
The common name is Grandma. Nanna. Grams. Something along those lines. But this is different. She is perfectly different. And it is perfect.
Combine a long car ride, destination Seaside, a creative woman and a disobedient little boy. Result a brilliant scheme of fun and adventure. They entered the car as Grandma and M. They exited as Lewis and Clark, explorers extraordinaire.
That week marked the beginning of something special. Treasure hunts in the sand. Complete with X marks the spot. Feeding hundreds of seagulls. Visiting their statue. (The one of Lewis and Clark). Receiving orders from Thomas Jefferson himself.
I watched my son fall in love with Lewis in a new way. They are buddies - he has been known to say. Even threatening to move near them because he misses them more than he would us. They have a bond I am jealous of. But am oh so grateful for.
My mom is amazing in her own right. A woman of many talents. She is excellent in all that she does. I have always admired her. She is my closest friend. But more than anything else, my heart swells at the love that she has for M. It is boundless. And he revels in it. It is fun. And his little heart seeks for it.
Lewis and Clark was a brilliant way to get M to behave. But now it is the bond that defines their relationship. The element of fun in everything they do. It is a promise of forever from Lewis to Clark.

...
I would love to hear how you or your family/friends have found ways to connect with your children!

Linking up here

    

What It's Like Wednesday #4 ... The Big Fat Lie

I stood staring. Speechless.
She stood smiling. Nervously.
"But Mommy, I thought Em..." She cut him off quickly, before he could say what I already knew.
It was a lie. A BIG fat lie.
In the store filled with balloons, paper plates and candy we were both doing the same thing. Shopping for our son's birthday parties. We were leaving, she was coming and so we stopped. We explained, she explained, with one great difference. She lied.
M wasn't invited. I had waited and waited for something. Anything. Hoping against hope that it was coming. But it didn't. Instead, I stood in a store, staring at the evidence of the lie, knowing it was a lie, listening to the lie and saying nothing.
What could I say?
Why didn't you invite my sweet, precious M?
I knew the answer, or at least thought I did. M was new. Rough around the edges. Very rough.
And still my heart hoped that they would look beyond the roughness and see the little boy.
The little boy with a smile that melts your heart.
The little boy hurting and scared.
The little boy who could charm a room.
The little boy that had never known a friend.
The little boy that didn't know he wasn't wanted.
...

Sometimes the ugly bits of parenting an older child from foster care don't come from within the walls of my own home. They come from outside. In the worst possible ways. People that I hoped would love my difficult to love little boy. People I thought would understand. People who should love with grace. Sometimes they don't. My heart rips and bleeds with sadness for my M. A child that didn't cause any of this, but must live with the consequences.
So I wait. I pray and I wait.
I pray that God will not only change M's heart. To calm the anxious fears and need to control. But also that he will change the hearts of those who don't understand, who can look at a child and choose not to love.  And also for me, that I can forgive. Forgive the hurt and love even when it isn't returned. And to remember. Remember that they can't see what I see.

I am linking up here.
 

Family Traditions

"Who's turn is it this week?" A question that is often asked in our home. 

I don't remember if it was the 1st week we brought him home or sometime after that.

Some people may think that we are encouraging bad habits, and maybe we are. But hey if bad habits work then why not! (at least sometimes). 

Every Saturday night after dinner and before bed time our family pops a giant bowl of popcorn and cuddles up on the couch. We take turns choosing. This coming Saturday is M's turn. I am guessing that at some point he will mention Rapunzel (Disney's Tangled) or Ice Age. He doesn't always choose the same movie but enough times that we can quote them fairly well. 

It is one of those things that you do that just sticks. We all love it. M says often that he wishes every day were Saturday. I would like to think that it isn't just watching TV for 90 minutes that makes it such a family favorite. We laugh together, we snuggle and chat. We have fun. 

We have watched almost every decent movie on Netflix and I am not sure what we will do when we get through all of them, but I suppose M won't mind if we repeat a few. :) 

I am linking up here

What It's Really Like Wednesday #3... One Sided Love

The day we moment just after we found out he was ours

People were talking, the words were coming out of their mouths. We heard few, if any, of them. Our stomachs somersaulted over and over again. Our hearts racing. Waiting, always waiting. But the waiting was almost over. My heart was so full, ready to explode. I could have screamed. Instead I sat, nodding my head. Pretending to listen. Stealing looks at The Hubs. Stealing a peak out the huge window. When would he come?
Then it happened. A small yellow bus turned down the steep driveway and pulled up to the house. I have no idea what anyone else was doing. I was staring out the window, watching, waiting. Squeezing The Hubs hand. "There he is!" The Hubs whispered as a little boy stepped off the bus.
D went to get him and walked him into the house. Hiding behind D's tall skinny legs his big brown eyes peeked out at us. How would we ever get him past those legs? They seemed like an impenetrable fortress. D gently pushed him out from behind her and introduced us.
"Hi." Our tongues were tied. Our minds and hearts a whirl of overwhelming happiness and nervousness. He didn't say anything. He ran to the back of the house. My heart skipped a beat. What was happening?! He hated us! But no, he came back. Slow and shy, carrying behind his back a large book. I scooted onto the floor, "What do you have?" Like a skittish animal he tentatively held out the book, a large white binder with a rocket ship on the front. It was the book I had made, for him. He handed it to me and D prompted him to ask the questions they had talked about before we came. Who was the lady in the apron? Did she make cookies? Was the dog nice? I read the book again and again. Sometimes all the way through. Sometimes only a page.
I can't remember if I touched him. I remember I wanted to. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and smother him with kisses. I was so in love. We both were, The Hubs and I. There sitting on the floor with us was our new life, all 34 pounds of him. The first moments of forever.
We spent the day playing. Hours and hours fixing "broken" toys with little toy hammers and screwdrivers. We were happy. We thought he was happy. I took pictures, tons of them, of our happy little family. He kept asking if we could leave. "Can we just go now? Let's go! Ok I am packed!" He seemed in such a hurry to be family. We didn't know the fear behind his seeming rush to be gone. Just rip the band aid off. We didn't know. How could we, blinded by our happiness and love?
....
Looking back now I can see how much we didn't understand. We were so happy, we assumed he would be too. But we were taking him from another home. We were just another set of strangers in a long line of them. He seemed happy. He smiled and laughed and bounced off the walls with what seemed to us giddiness. But as we came to know our son and he come to know us, beginning to be comfortable in his new family, we knew. The giddiness was a survival technique. People thought it was cute, how much he liked new people, how quickly he "attached" to them. They didn't know what we now knew, he was surviving. The giddiness was cleverly masked fear and anxiety. He didn't love the new strangers, even if their names were Momma and Daddy. But we loved him. Oh how we loved him. Our hearts were full to bursting with love for him. Love isn't the only thing, but it helps.
The two pictures below were taking the weekend we met M. I didn't notice until later, but the smiles on The Hubs and my own face differ greatly from the I-am-not-so-sure-about-this-but-I-should-probably-smile look on M's face.

Two real smiles

I am linking up here...

What It's Really Like Wednesday #2 ... Popularity Contest

"Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!" M's scream ripped through the room. He ran in, tears streaming down his face, grasping one hand in the other "Momma! Ahhhhhh! Momma!" The hubs was standing closer but M bypassed him and made a frantic beeline to me.  My arms encircled him, pulling him in close and tight. "What happened? Are you ok?" He was incoherent through his tears and intermittent sobs. Finally someone explained. M, my rambunctious boy was playing hard. He had met the pavement and found it wasn't kind. He held his little hand close to his body protecting it. Gently, slowly I coaxed him into showing me. He held it out tentatively, like a skittish animal, ready to run at any moment. The skin was broken, like a skinned knee would be. "Can I kiss it?" He nodded his head slightly and I softly touched his hand to my lips. "I love you forever," I whisper.
...
A silly story, a silly memory but it is burned into my memory as few others will be. It was the first time. The first time my son chose me. For so long no matter what I did, or said or tried it was always Daddy. He wanted Daddy. I was just a woman, just another woman in a long line of them. Not the woman he wanted but the one he had. A poor replacement in his mind. The loser in a very important popularity contest.
Sometimes I understood. My brain would tell me what my heart couldn't understand. Time, it would take time. And time was something we had. Forever in fact. Forever Family. He didn't know, how could he. Promises broken by so many, by the people he loved. Why would we be different? Why would I be different?
So many times I bit my tongue and let the tears burn my eyes and throat. "I can do this. I can do this. He needs time. He needs time. Oh, God help me. " Over and over my brain repeated, only sometimes getting through to my wounded heart. The pain seared. Knowing your son doesn't want you. But he was just a little boy, lost in a world of adults doing what's best.
Time. Love. Faithfulness. All working to heal a little heart. I can smile. It isn't hopeless. The moments are more frequent now. He seeks for me. He loves me. Forever family. It slowly sinks it, settling in his heart and mine. "I love you forever."

I am linking up here...

What It's Really Like Wednesday #1 ... It happens at bath time

I have decided for my sanity and the salvation of yours (ok maybe I am exaggerating just a little) that every Wednesday I will blog about the nitty gritty (aka ugly bits) portions of parenting, and specifically parenting a child with a tragic past. I do not want any of my readers to think that I am downplaying or disregarding the difficult parts of parenting in general, I realize that being a parent, no matter where your child came from, is a difficult job to say the least. I know from experience that raising a child with "special needs" (a term that implies some sort of medical or mental need, actually is used to be all inclusive for any child that has had a difficult past and lives in a family that is not theirs biologically) has some unique qualities.
I have debated what particular story to relate to you, and I think I have decided to start at the beginning, or very nearly there.
Shortly after M moved in with us our happy little bubble was popped.
The hubs and I were still on cloud 9. We were so happy to be parents that we walked around in a glowing haze of giddiness, not realizing that our little boy was scared practically spitless. We were nice, but we were strangers and he missed the people he knew and loved (this unfortunately, did not include us).
...
M and I watched as the water drained from the tub, swirling and whirling down the small hole. I braced myself for the words I knew were coming. M put as much of his hand as would fit in the drain, "I am going down there and I am NEVER coming back! You will never see me again!" I replied the same way I did every night, "Where would you go? You don't want to go down there it is icky and slimy." "I am going to go live with P, not with you." The words cut. My sweet precious M didn't love me, he wanted P the foster mom he knew and loved, the woman he considered his mom. I grabbed his foot and playfully pulled him towards me, "No! I won't let you. You are mine forever!" He pulled back, less playfully, truly wishing that he could somehow leave his new home and go back. I pulled again, this time pulling him out of the tub, wrapping him in a towel and my arms "You are mine forever. I will never let you!" This time he let me hug him, "I have lived a lot of different places," he said sadly. My heart broke again, this time for him and not for my hurt feelings. "I know bud, I know. It must be so hard." In a small voice he agreed. Then with his usual swiftness he replaced his frown with a smile and asked if he could help with the lotion. The moment was over and we moved on chatting and smiling building on a fragile foundation, building a new foundation really. It was over for the moment, but I knew that tomorrow would be the same. We would repeat again and again the painful conversation, a little differently maybe, but always the same underneath cutting for me and sad for him.
...

I read once that the adoption relationship is unique because it begins with loss. Loss for the child- they have lost their biological family and the security that most children have of taking for granted that their family is their family forever. Loss for the parent- instead of the idealic dream of little mini me's running around, the parents must come to terms with the fact that they will likely never have biological offspring. Loss for extended family/community- people must let go of their envisioned plan for the people that they know and love and accept a child that may be less than pleasant or not match the parents physically.  I will be honest, when I read the description of adoption as a loss based relationship, I hated it! How dare someone describe my family as something less than wonderful. But as much as I hate to admit it, there is truth in the statement. Our family is different, it is wonderful, but it is different.

My son's relationship with us, his parents, is founded on the loss of people that he knew and loved. It isn't the way I want it to be. This is a hard truth for me to swallow but I have realized that if I can't acknowledge that he did love other "mothers" before me, that they are important, then I can't fully appreciate when he says, "You are my bestest momma ever."

I am linking up here...

http://www.awisewomanbuildsherhome.com/

Master Chef Monday

Have you ever seen the television show MasterChef? In my family it is a much loved, much watched television show. I have to admit that at first I was reluctant to watch it but the hubs was persistent. We lived happily in our little MasterChef bubble and then came MasterChef Junior. Oh yes there is a version with children now too! So now M is totally into it too. It has officially become our family's show.
I don't know if all 5 year old boys are this way, but mine after finding out that Momma and Daddy like to watch MasterChef started to pretend he was a master chef. Anytime he ended up in the kitchen with the hubs or I he would say things like "We are master chefs," and proceed to pretend to be on a cooking show (this may or may not be my fault, it has always been a dream of mine to have a show of my own and as I am not famous nor am I a professional chef/cook I settled for my own private show in my kitchen, just for the hubs and M). So after watching me, M picked up on my silly game and now loves to play it too. He is also convinced that when he is 8 years old he is going to be on MasterChef Junior, therefore he needs to learn all of the things that the kids on the show know. Not one to miss a prime opportunity I jumped.
And so was born Master Chef Monday. M and I have set aside Mondays to cook together. It is so much fun and just like our coffee dates, it has become a special time for M and I. What do you like to do? What do your kids like to do? Do any of those items intersect? If so, don't miss your opportunity! It may take an extra dose of patience on your end but trust me it is so worth it! Kids are fun and they love to spend time with the adults that they love. My previous statement may not always seem to be the truth but it is.
I am not a perfect parent. I make mistakes all the time. But one thing I know for sure is time spent getting to know my son is not wasted.

Fishing egg shells out of the bowl (We are still working his egg cracking skills)

Making a well for the eggs

The finished product, lasagna with homemade noodles, garlic broccoli and garlic toast

I am linking up with The Life of Faith : Mommy Moments. Click on the image below to be directed to the site.